All characters owned by Marvel Comics.

Author's note: This story is told from three different POVs and will flip between their perspectives. I decided to write the characters using minimal accents; figured the reader can 'hear' each character's voice plainly enough in their heads without my help.

The timeline starts off-camera during the first issues of Uncanny Avengers, volume 1, then diverges sharply from there. For mature audiences only due to language, violence, and sexual situations. I will flag the naughtier chapters, but just to be safe the whole story gets an 'M' rating.

Rogue

"You can't wear those boots, darlin'."

I turned and found Logan leaning against my doorframe, cleaned up real nice for him in his best jeans and flannel shirt, leather jacket smoothed over the top. His comforting cologne of cigar smoke and motor oil pleasantly filled my nostrils. I smirked and stretched out one leg, proudly showing off my new high-heeled black booties.

"And why not, sugar? Don't think they go with the dress?" I put my hands on my hips and posed and pouted like a runway model, delightedly watching as the big, bad Wolverine squirmed. Uncomfortable right up to his eyebrows, my friend's stare said equal parts older brother and jealous boyfriend. That sort of tension had always made our relationship what Cosmopolitan would call 'complicated', but no matter what comment was percolating in the back of his thick skull, I knew my outfit was just the right amount of class and trash. The black leggings and short flared burgundy dress hardly qualified as indecent, though the front of the dress dipped dangerously low, the scoop neck and thin straps showing off a good amount of cleavage. I looked hot, but Logan always seemed to give me a funny look when I was dressed hot, like it was easier for him not to be reminded I was a woman.

He rolled his eyes at my antics. "Rogue, ain't about the dress and you know it. We're going to this damn concert as undercover bodyguards, not civilians. Means you've got to be ready to move."

I stuck my tongue out at him, angrily kicking off my pretty new boots. "Spoilsport." I dropped to my knees and rummaged under my bed for my trusty Doc Martens. Even he couldn't object to those: rubber soles, sturdy, they were practically army issue. I triumphantly pulled out the utilitarian boots to shake at him for his approval, but when I looked up he darted his eyes away from me in a move that in a lesser man could have been construed as embarrassed. Looking back down, I saw just how much cleavage happened to be spilling over the top of my dress, and laughed wickedly to myself as I plopped onto the bed to grudgingly pull on the less sexy footwear. On second thought, maybe our relationship wasn't really that complicated after all. I stomped to the ground when I had the boots tied, considerably shorter.

"Better?" I asked and did a little twirl.

"Always wear comfortable shoes," he scowled. I grabbed my own leather jacket and a cross-body purse, following him into the hall. "You'll thank me."

I checked my purse and pockets for the essentials as we headed through the Avengers' mansion. Lip balm, sunglasses, hair tie, cell phone, ID, all a girl needed for a night on the town. "Is Sam riding with us?" I asked and shouldered into my jacket, slinging the bag into position across my hip.

Logan grunted, his favorite form of communication. "Are you kidding? Lila Cheney in town? Sam's been up her ass since she rolled into Earth and tracked us down."

"Let's hope not literally, sugar." That crack actually got the hint of a smile from him. Praise indeed. I knew Logan wasn't a fan of Lila's music, but fan or not it made me happy that an intergalactic rock star like her still cared for Sam Guthrie, some poor kid from coal-mining-Kentucky. "You think there's real trouble or is Lila just being cautious?" We reached the garage and Logan hit unlock on his key fob. The lights of a shiny black sports car flashed. Quite a change from the greasy, grimy garage at Xavier's school and Saturday's spent working on Logan's broken down jeep, or flying in the wind on the back of his Harley. Sometimes I sorely missed the old days.

"Could be trouble. Last I knew she was on the government's radar as a potential mutant terrorist, even though we both know that's bullshit. Bottom line, she's high profile, which makes her a target. She may be playing it safe, but she's spooked enough to ask for our help."

I climbed in and buckled my seatbelt. The engine purred and Logan eased the car out of the crowded team garage. "We did such a bang-up job on security the last time she called us…" I muttered under my breath. Logan gave me 'the look', ice on steel that would freeze your insides, out of the corner of his eye. I crossed my arms in a huff and slouched down into the slowly warming leather seat, biting my tongue against the smart-ass remark that threatened to bubble out of my mouth. He could be pissy all he wanted, but the truth hurt. Last time Lila played Central Park, she had recruited the X-Men for help and Professor X had nearly gotten assassinated while preaching to the crowd about racial harmony and tolerance. Logan's grip on the steering wheel told me I had read his mind.

Logan

Small venue, but still twenty-five hundred capacity. Too many damn people. Would have felt better to come with a whole squad, but Lila had made it clear she ain't comfortable using Avengers. Most of Storm's outfit were away on a mission when I called the school for more bodies, so we had to make do with what we had. Rogue and I muscled our way through the crowd. Hated places like this, the lights and noises messed with my enhanced senses, making it real hard to do my job. This was gonna go south real fast if something happened, we'd be pinned in a crowd of panicky civilians with no room to maneuver.

Rogue wrangled our backstage passes from the will call station. "Let's get to the stage, find Sam and Lila," she murmured, pulling her phone out to text Guthrie and let him know we were here. I nodded, and she grabbed my arm, yanking me through the writhing mass of people that to my nose was 300 different kinds of body spray plastered over human sweat.

The security guards were ready to give us trouble until Rogue flashed the pass dangling in between her breasts. We wandered backstage, and I tagged Guthrie's scent front and center, as well as Lila's, though not as strong. Girl must have been in her dressing room. Tall, blonde, and gangly, Sam stood a good head above the throng of leather clad groupies packing the backstage area. He waved and wove his way through to come stand next to us. The kid tried and failed to hide the disappointment on his face.

"Just you two?" he asked.

I crossed my arms and glared at him. "Everybody else is on a mission. If Cheney had given us a little more notice or wasn't so damn stubborn that it had to be X-Men only…"

Rogue poked me in the ribs with her finger. She smiled sympathetically at Sam and patted his arm. "We'll make do, sugar. Where's Lila?"

The hayseed's face flushed from his neck to his ears. Damn kid reeked like sex. "Um, in her dressing room…relaxing before her show." Rogue snickered next to me.

"Cool it," I hissed at her. I rubbed my hand across my jaw. Jesus, kid, on a mission? I'd bust his chops later. "How long until she goes onstage?" I asked.

Guthrie pulled his phone out of his back pocket to check the time. Dammit, I missed watches on people. Phones annoyed the hell out of me, could hear each one's little-high pitched whine filling up the background noise. "Warm-up act has, like, half hour set left? Then she'll probably go on fifteen, twenty minutes later."

I nodded. Gave Rogue and me a little time to sweep through the crowd, look for anything suspicious. "You check over the place before the crowd came in like I told you?"

Sam straightened up, all business. "Yes sir, outside the building as well. Got real friendly with all of the security guards." Good boy. At least he listened sometimes.

"Stay backstage with Lila, we'll be back before the warm-up act is done." Rogue and I turned to leave, but he stopped us.

"Here, Anna," he said and held out a hand to Rogue. "Borrow a little bit just in case?" Rogue frowned. Since she lost the flight and super-strength she had retained from Carol Danvers all those years back, I knew she had been feeling outmuscled in most of our fights. She hated using her mutant power to borrow everybody else's just to get her job done, and though she didn't say anything, I could tell it made her feel like she was just leeching off of her teammates, though there was no damn reason she should feel that way. Still, girl was smart. If this turned into a fight, she could use a little bit of Guthrie's Cannonball power. She smiled tightly and took his hand.

"Thanks, sugar," she said and we left the backstage area. I stopped her before we stepped into the crowd and, even though I knew it was guaranteed to piss her off, I snaked an arm around her small waist and leaned my forehead against hers.

"Take some of mine, too, darlin'. Don't give me no sass, just do it. Don't want you hurt if I can help it." I tried not to notice how damn good she smelled; fresh air compared to the hundreds of bath and bodywork's rejects packed around us. "Be useful to have two animals like us sniffing out this place."

She furrowed her brow against mine. "Yeah. That's me. Useful." Her tone was slightly bitter and she wouldn't look at me, but I saw her swallow hard and felt the pull of her power. She used to knock anyone she touched flesh to flesh out on their ass, but now her power was more like a trickle of water across your skin. I let it drop for now, but we'd talk later about her attitude.

"Split up. Stay out of trouble, text me if something's funny. Be back here in a half-hour." Her nostrils flared and I saw her pupils dilate as my heightened senses rushed over her. She squared her jaw and set off through the crowd.

Sam

"Can you zip me up?"

I pulled myself out of my state of bliss and caught Lila's expectant gaze over her shoulder. I scrambled to my feet and raked my eyes up her smooth, bare back, visible between the folds of fabric. I slid the zipper up slowly, but just couldn't help myself, sliding it right back down where it came from. I kissed her soft skin, lookin' for an instant replay.

"Sam," she whined and leaned her head on mine. "Up. Zip me up."

"Oh," I exhaled slowly, sending goose bumps along her arms. "My mistake." I moved my kisses to her shoulder blades.

"Sam." Her tone turned to more of a warning. "I've still got my vocal warm-ups to do." I zipped up the black sparkly dress, trying hard not to pout. I'd forgotten how damned dedicated she could be to her music; 'the show must go on' was more than just her personal motto. She stood in front of the mirror and shimmied the dress into place. I was more than a little disappointed we couldn't sneak one more round in, and she caught the look on my face before I could hide it. She turned around and cupped my chin in her hands.

"Between sets, my break is twenty minutes. Think you can get it done that quickly?" I smiled wolfishly and pressed my body forward, pushing her into the dressing room table.

"You're goddamned right I can." I kissed her a little too strong and she pulled her face back.

"All right, Guthrie. Down boy." She pushed on my chest, then ran her hand down my cheek. "It's so good to see you. You have no idea how much I needed this, to see my friends, to see you. Thank you for coming when I called."

I smiled solemnly and put my hands on her waist. "I'll always be here when you call. That'll never change."

She laughed. "That's about the only thing that hasn't changed." She slapped her hand against my chest playfully. "The Avengers? Are you frikkin' kidding me?" My face flushed involuntarily, causing her to laugh even harder. "Playing in the big leagues now, boy." She untangled herself from my arms and pulled out the suitcase she called her cosmetics bag. I flopped back down onto the dressing room's couch, trying not to think of how many other people over the years had humped on it besides us.

"I'm proud of you, Sam. I am…" I heard a 'but' in her tone and braced myself. "I was just surprised, especially after what you told me happened with the Avengers and…Charles."

Ah, there it was. Her mistrust of anything and everything Avengers happened to be Xavier related; Lila had always had a soft spot for the Professor. The Avengers weren't exactly culpable in the death of Charles Xavier, but they sure as hell weren't helpful. Dammit, I shouldn't have to defend a decision to join Earth's mightiest heroes. I loved being an X-Man, but fighting human hatred with a dream ain't exactly the easiest thing in the world. "Well, when Captain America calls your cell phone…" I held my hands wide and raised my eyebrows expectantly.

She froze in the middle of applying mascara to her already dark lashes. "I see. A little star-struck, was that it? Didn't take you as a flash over substance kind of guy." Her voice was almost cold.

I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. "You got a problem with the choices I'm making here, Lila?"

She bit her lip and caught my hardened eyes in the mirror. "It's your life," she said quietly. "Like I said, I'm just surprised. The X-Men are your family, Sam."

I swallowed hard and chewed on my response, really not wanting to ruin our short time together arguing, especially when she had chosen to stay far, far away from the mutant-human conflict when she could have made a difference. I let out a deep breath. "I have a chance to make progress, Lila. To make a real difference instead of just fighting for survival. You say the X-Men are my family? Damn right they are, but maybe I'm sick of watching my family die."

My phone buzzed and I pulled it from my pocket. "Another text from Rogue. She and Wolverine are probably done with their security sweep." I frowned at the screen. "I wish you would have let me rustle up a few more bodies on this. Especially after Roberto cancelled on me…" My teammate Roberto Da Costa was usually a big fan of Lila's, but he couldn't make it tonight. Busy, he had said. Busy my ass. He better have been on a real honest to god mission instead of watching the finale to 'Dancing with the Stars' or I would kill him.

She stood and smoothed her dress and hair. "Sorry, family only for me. I don't know your Avengers and, I'm sorry, but I don't trust them."

I tried not to slam her door on the way out.

Rogue

Everyone smelled like dead flowers soaked in formaldehyde. How the hell did Logan deal with the stink of the unwashed masses every day? I wanted nothing more than to pop the bone claws that itched in my forearms and berserker my way through the throng of bottle blondes and spray tans in my way. I somehow managed to restrain myself. I got a few appreciative nods and caught the spike in pheromones as I walked around the perimeter of the theatre. Logan was right, this place was lousy to cover. Big stage, lots of lights that obscured the crowd of people dancing. A walkway ringed the top, six different entrances and exits with any one of them getting a clear shot at the stage. I paused and leaned over the railing, watching a few seconds of the horrible damn warm-up.

If she was so worried about her safety, why hadn't Lila cancelled the show? I was sure she could have gotten plenty of gigs in other quadrants of the galaxy, places where people weren't trying to gun down anybody that stuck their neck out as a mutant. Why had she risked her safety to come back to Earth? I stepped back and put my hands on my hips. All this had better not have been for a Sam Guthrie booty call or I'd kick his ass.

"Cheney, nothing but a goddamned mutie bitch."

My borrowed enhanced hearing snapped at the voice, followed the sound. I sniffed furiously along the walkway, catching the scent of fear and adrenaline, let it lead me to two men in heated conversation in one of the bathrooms. Their angry self-righteous stink practically bounced off of the filthy stall doors. Just the two of them, they must have scared everyone else out of the bathroom. I leaned my back flat against the wall, staying hidden. I pulled my phone from my jacket pocket and zipped a text to Logan and Sam. Maybe trouble. Get 2 LC. They could guard Lila, I'd handle these douches myself.

"It's gonna be epic, man. They'll remember our names forever, martyrs to the cause." My stomach flipped. "The cameras are set up, right? This is going on live feed, on YouTube, everybody'll see that mutie slut get what she deserves."

Oh, shit. I didn't need to hear any more of their plan, not really. I had other ways of getting information from them, though the thought of those pieces of shit floating though my subconscious made me sick. Unfortunately, for that little plan to work I had to get close to them first, close enough to touch. I breathed deep and pushed my boobs up in my bra, smoothing my hair. I sauntered into the bathroom hips first, halting the two saviors of humanity in their conversation. My smile was low and sultry.

"Well, well," I purred, slinking towards them. "Room for one more in here, gentlemen?" One of the guys - brown hair, tall, with a goatee - looked me up and down like he had just won the lottery. Logan's nose told me he about came in his pants just at the sight of me. Gross.

The other - shorter, balder - glared at me and puffed his chest out over the growing paunch of coming middle age housed above his beltline. "This is a private conversation," he growled. The animal I borrowed from Logan wanted to growl back and tear open his guts. Instead, I pouted and took another step towards them.

"Now, that is a shame. Sure this is invitation only? I don't mind watching y'all as long as I get to play, too." Baldy practically sputtered in rage. Sure hit that one on the head. If he hated mutants, odds were he was homophobic, too. Most people weren't real selective when it came to intolerance. I pretended to ignore him and ran a finger down the side of Goatee's face instead, pulling his memories as I went. "Can I go first?" I asked him huskily, processing what I skimmed from his mind in the same breath. I'm not as good as a telepath, but, as much as I hated my power, it did come in handy. Goatee didn't really know anything beyond what I had already figured out, he was nothin' but a flunky. Just my luck, Baldy must be the brains of this duo. I sighed and Goatee practically creamed himself again.

Had to finish this. I reached out faster than lightning and slapped my hands onto their faces, pulling so hard with my power it knocked them flat out on the ground. I was only vaguely aware of their bodies dropping to the floor like dead weights as I stood over their still forms, holding my hands in the air where their faces had been. Their memories washed over me, bringing the burning taste of bile to the back of my throat.

Purifiers. A name the X-Men knew all too well. Assholes bent on destroying mutants, cleansing the human gene pool of anybody they deemed unworthy. These bastards and their friends were hiding in and around the theatre, looking to take a page from the book of the jihadists, only instead of detonating a backpack of explosives in the crowded theatre, they were going to use Lila and her powers. These two were both just soldiers, dammit, and new to the cause if their language was any indication. Appeared they needed to say a few more 'Hail Marys' before they got their religious zealot card... They knew the basic plan, but not the details. Lila was a teleporter, her powers weren't offensive, more defensive. How the hell were they planning on 'detonating' her? I pulled out my phone and called Logan, still processing what I had seen in their minds. I took off running as it rang in my ear.

Logan

Too old for this crap. The warm-up act was almost done, thank frikkin' god. I don't know who or what a One-Direction was, but they made me want to jab my own claws into my ears. I shoved my way through the crowd for what seemed like the twentieth time, getting nothing unusual, just a lot of spoiled rich kids trying to get laid. After striking out on my surveillance, the buzz in my pocket surprised me and I almost dropped my damn phone. Text from Rogue; I frowned at the tiny screen. Get 2 LC? Lila Cheney. I moved towards the stage, thinking for a split second that maybe I should get to Rogue instead and back her up, but stopped myself and kept heading Lila's direction. If Rogue needed backup, she would have asked for it. She had proven she could handle herself time and again; that's why I always liked having her at my side.

I hit the backstage and found Sam with Lila, his arm wrapped protectively around the busty brunette. If trouble popped, he looked more than ready to rocket her away in a heartbeat. He rushed up to me, dragging Lila by her hand.

"Where's Rogue?" he asked, jacked up on adrenaline. "Do we cancel the concert?"

"We?" Lila pulled her hand free. "Excuse me, Guthrie, whose show do you think this is? And why would we cancel? Because Rogue says there's trouble? Well, what kind of trouble? What number on the shit-scale are we talking here, because I tell you what Sam, I am not running scared from this planet's petty prejudices!" He glared at her and opened his mouth to protest, but she took the wind out of his sails with one look. "Is that what you think I should do? Run and hide?"

He hung his head, defeated. "You do what you have to, Lila. We'll watch over you best we can." Goddamn Guthrie and his 'aw shucks' routine. Probably got him lots of pussy, but tonight it might get us all killed.

The crowd started chanting Cheney's name and you could practically see it calling to her. She kissed Sam and the kid blushed again. "Time to show them how it's done, sweetie," she said, beaming despite the fear I could smell on her. Girl had guts. Maybe it wasn't the smartest play, but I got where she was coming from. You didn't run and hide while the whole world was watching. She squared her shoulders and stepped onstage to thunderous, deafening applause. Guthrie moved into his position guarding the backstage area, I stepped towards the main floor, pausing to take a look at Lila. I'm not a fan of Cheney's music, but she launched into a slinky pounding number that had the crowd on their feet in an instant.

My phone buzzed repeatedly in my pocket, snapping me back to business. Rogue. Sam saw me answer and swarmed towards me, but I held out a hand and pushed him away with a glare. "Talk to me, girl." She was running through the crowd, her voice breathless, the background noise drowning her out even for my hearing.

"Purifiers!" She yelled and that one word sent ice down my back. Shit storm 10. "Took out two in the bathroom, but there's a whole damn squad of them here, mixed into the crowd! They want to use Lila's powers to cause some big accident! Get her the fuck off the stage, NOW!"

Sam

"Hello, New York!"

The roar of the crowd was deafening, but Lila's band eclipsed it. It was impressive: the lights, the sounds, twenty-five hundred voices rose to meet hers. She was beautiful, magical, weaving her spell on the theatre and on me, too, like she always had. I tore my eyes away from her and went back to pacing the backstage. I shielded my eyes and did my best visual sweep of the place, but it was hopeless. Part of me wanted to be searching the crowd, getting my hands dirty, anything but waiting. It felt like I was just standing there with my thumb up my ass until somebody made a move. But the other part wasn't leaving Lila's side. Logan was on his phone again and I headed towards him, but he knew what to do to make me stay put. Years of cred built up as X-Force and the New Mutant's squad leader, and that man still cowed me with one raised eyebrow like I was some punk kid wet behind the ears.

I sure didn't have to wait long for it all to go wrong. Halfway into the first song, an explosion ripped through the theatre in the back of the crowd. Gunfire and blaster bolts strafed the stage; canisters of tear gas followed, rainin' on us in the next heartbeat. Lila tried to use her power to bail, but one of the canisters managed to nail her in the head on its way down and she dropped like a sack of potatoes. Dammit! Fire, smoke, people screamed and surged in pain and there were too few of us to do anything about it. Why had she been so stubborn, and why had I listened to her? I should have never let her go onstage!

Gunmen poured in around us and I moved for Lila. Her band hightailed it past me and got in Logan's way, staggering and shielding their faces from the gas. Tears welled up in my eyes and I gagged, but through the blur I made out one of the attackers charging Lila. I blasted and barreled into him. 'Cannonball' they called me, because my powers wrecked everything in my path, but the bastard just smiled at me, unafraid. Normally, I was invulnerable when I used my power, but since I grabbed him by his jacket and held onto him he was in my blast field and could get at me, and he reached for my throat. I felt a pinprick pain along the side of my neck; he had goddamned injected me with something. Angry, hot pain seeped from the contact point, and I seized and doubled over in the air. My skin flared white hot and it felt like my powers had hit the gas pedal. I couldn't stop us, and, even though my original intent was to just jam him across the stage and out of the way, we shot through the theatre ceiling, giving the place a skylight.

I dropped him as we crashed, unable to hold onto anything anymore, the pain causing me to twitch and seize. We landed dramatically, the force creating a crater in the middle of the street and absolute agony heaved through me. I staggered to my feet and fell convulsing right back to my knees. I tried my damnedest to stop blasting, to turn my power off, but I couldn't. I felt like I was on fire, like I was a bomb ready to blow or a volcano waiting to erupt.

"Freeze, mutie!" Through my shaking, seizing haze, I saw that I was surrounded. A whole mess of one of the X-Men's old enemies, the Purifiers, had formed a ring around me and took aim with their blasters. They must not have recognized me, or maybe hadn't done their homework on any of Lila's possible 'mutie' associates. They should have known guns didn't do a damned thing to me when I was blasting. Lila had to concentrate to use her powers, but mine required less finesse, and whatever that bastard injected me with had my powers on overload. I doubted a missile would hurt me right now, at least from the outside. Inside was definitely a different matter. I shook violently and a crazy laugh bubbled out of my mouth as they opened fire on me with a combination of bullets and blasters. Couldn't feel a damn one of them, but somehow managed to get airborne, dropping all my assailants in one swipe. I felt the searing fire of my power flaring again, burning, sizzling my skin and nerves. Lila! I shoved off again, shaky as hell, and flew a crooked line back into the arena.